


let others wage war

by tryalittlejoytomorrow



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Man/Maid of Honor, F/M, Romance, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-07 00:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11612055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryalittlejoytomorrow/pseuds/tryalittlejoytomorrow
Summary: "Idiots, Juliet thinks fondly. They would be the cutest couple ever if they weren't so bent on giving each other hell."__Romeo and Juliet are getting married. Benvolio and Rosaline are to throw the wedding of the year, if they can stop fighting for one goddamn minute. Their cousins wouldn't mind if they could also realize they were in love in the process.





	let others wage war

**Author's Note:**

> when canon gives you tears and agony, the best response is to write fluffy, cheesy modern AU, so here it goes.
> 
> there might be a sequel someday if I feel inspired. :)

Rosaline and Benvolio are yelling at each other again.

Watching them through the window shop from the street, Juliet sighs heavily, her shoulders sinking at the sight. At her side Romeo tenses as well, his hand giving hers a gentle, if not reassuring squeeze. "Perhaps we should tell them separately," her boyfriend suggests, sheepish.

Juliet shakes her head, waves bouncing around her head as she does so. " _No_ ," she says, resolute. "They need to get over themselves and this petty feud. At this point they only fight because they're too dumb to try and change."

She loves her cousin, _really_ , she does - Rosaline has always been more of a sister to her, and she has the upmost respect and admiration for her. But Juliet's tired of watching her go at it with Benvolio Montague every chance she gets, especially as she is one hundred percent certain that these two have _no idea_ what they're fighting about. If she has to listen to Rosaline rant about Benvolio's _stupid hair_ one more time, she'll riot or kill them both. Which would be a shame, considering what she and Romeo are about to announce and ask of them.

Tugging at Romeo's hand she steers them both inside the coffee shop and to their usual booth, currently occupied by a pair of red-faced, fussing Capulet and Montague. Juliet catches the end of Benvolio's sentence - _why do you care who I sleep with?_ \- and the look of disgust on Rosaline's face as she lets out a loud _ugh_ and pretends she doesn't. Juliet clears her throat and they both fall silent immediately, the only signs they were just fighting the murderous glare in Rosaline's eyes and the frown creasing Benvolio's forehead.

"Juliet!" Rosaline greets her, fond, as she rises from her seat to engulf her in a big hug. "Oh, I've missed you." At her side Benvolio does the same with Romeo, and then steals her from Rosaline's arms to press a kiss to her cheek. Rosaline glares at the older Montague, then at _her_ , as if she's some traitor because she's allowing a Montague to kiss her.

Well, not just _a_ Montague - _this_ Montague. Rosaline has welcomed Romeo easily, admitting that he was a nice boy _despite_ his family name. But Benvolio she's always been determined to treat like the bane of her existence, when Juliet knows in her heart that were her cousin to open her eyes a little she would see that every ounce of sweetness she recognizes in Romeo comes from growing up with his cousin, same as Juliet herself realizes that Rosaline has been the best influence in her life. But Juliet's praises of Benvolio have always fallen in deaf ears; in turn Benvolio has always seemed to do his best at irritating Rosaline, and the rest is history, leading Juliet to wonder in that instant if Romeo wasn't right earlier.

They sit and order their coffee, and for a good half hour Rosaline and Benvolio forget about their stupid fight as they listen to Romeo tell them stories about their trip to Venice. Save for a barb from Rosaline that sounds more teasing than mean about how Benvolio would never do such a romantic thing for any of his _strippers_ \- to which Benvolio only grins, a slow, mischievous thing as he corrects her plural to _singular_ \- they actually behave like civilized people, Benvolio cutting his blueberry muffin in half and giving it to Rosaline without a word, Rosaline blushing softly into the foam of her latte. _Idiots_ , Juliet thinks fondly. They would be the cutest couple ever if they weren't so bent on giving each other hell.

Romeo nears the end of his tale and Juliet cannot keep it in any longer. "We got engaged!" she squeals, wriggling the hand she'd kept on her lap all along to show off her diamond ring.

Across the table Benvolio is the first to react; his mouth stretches into a beaming smile as he leaps up and dashes for Romeo, clapping his cousin on the back. "That's my man!" Benvolio congratulates him before he wraps his arms around her, pulling her up from her chair. "Sweet Juliet," he hugs her tightly, "you've finally made a decent man out of this one."

Juliet lets herself be swept off her feet, Benvolio's enthusiasm warming her heart. It's Rosaline's seemingly cool façade, but eyes wide with shock that worry her as much as she expected it from her reasonable, smart cousin. Twenty-one _is_ perhaps too young to get married, but if she doesn't believe in true love and romantic gestures like this now, when is she ever? Locking her gaze with Rosaline's, Juliet waits, a painfully slow moment passing before Rosaline's features soften and she gives her a small, genuine smile. She finally rises from her chair and instead of stealing her from Benvolio's arms like he did earlier Rosaline only joins their group hug, extending an arm to Romeo who eagerly joins in.

" _You_ tell them," Juliet whispers to Romeo as they separate and get back to their seats. Her fiancé looks _terrified_ but Juliet simply gives him a pointed look. Announcing their news was the biggest part, after all; marriage is about sharing and being there for each other in the good _and_ the bad moments, and Romeo's next words will _definitely_ fall into the latter.

"You're the first to know," Romeo tells them, "because you two mean a lot to us, and -" He pauses, seeking comfort in her. Juliet urges him on with a nod of her head. "And we wanted you to share our happiness and we would be honored if...if you accepted to be our best man and maid of honor."

To their credit, neither Rosaline nor Benvolio start _screaming_. After the initial shock fades there is another round of hugs and kisses on cheeks, more congratulations, and when they all leave the coffee shop there is no blood nor tear shed, a rare and unique thing during a Capulet and Montague meeting, all exaggeration aside.

"It wasn't _that_ bad," Romeo sighs in relief as they walk away hand-in-hand, leaving their bewildered cousins behind. "I mean, they look like they took it pretty well. How much scarier can your father get, really?" he asks her, seemingly to reassure himself more than to know the answer.

Juliet looks over her shoulder and catches the frown on her cousin's face as she stomps past Benvolio to get to her car. "Not that bad," Juliet echoes, not caring much about their parents' reactions, not when appointing their cousins as best man and maid of honor could lead to world war three. "This is a good idea, right?" she asks Romeo in turn.

Romeo kisses her cheek, fond and sweet. "They _do_ love fighting, but I'm pretty sure they love us _more_ than that. They'll come around, babe," he promises her. "As long as Rosaline doesn't start bossing Benvolio around."

Juliet rolls her eyes, and yet she knows she cannot argue with Romeo on this; Rosaline _is_ known to enjoy being in control. "And as long as Benvolio doesn't relish in being contrary to everything she says or does just for the sake of it."

Romeo shrugs one shoulder in acceptance. "In that case, there's always Vegas."

Juliet grins. "Vegas it is," she agrees, bumping her shoulder with his.

 

* * *

 

_that montague_

_4.17pm_

_meet me at my place tonight?_

 

_fair Capulet_

_4.19pm_

_isn't this a bit early for a booty call? btw my name's Rosaline, not Stella, learn your fucking alphabet_

 

_that montague_

_4.22pm_

_isn't it cute that you remember all the girls I've dated_

 

_that montague_

_4.24pm_

_also, language_

 

_that montague_

_4.32pm_

_I had a point. look, for better or worse Romeo and Juliet chose us, okay? I love Romeo as if he were my own brother. I'm not gonna let something as ridiculous as hating you come between that. don't you feel the same about Juliet?_

 

_fair Capulet_

_4.35pm_

_fine_

 

_that montague_

_4.40pm_

_8? you like Chinese, right?_

 

* * *

 

Livia looks at her like she's gone insane, which, Rosaline believes, totally goes against any sisterhood code or book.

"Are you _actually_ mad at Benvolio for doing the _mature_ thing here?" her younger sister asks, cocking an eyebrow at her. Rosaline did not know Livia possessed that much sass in her. "It _is_ sweet of him, that peace offering," she insists, and Rosaline wants to pinch herself because surely she's crossed some kind of space and time breach to enter this alternate reality where her own blood is turning against her to side with _Benvolio Montague_ of all people.

"Don't give him too much credit," Rosaline groans. "If I give into him now, what next? Strippers at the bachelor party? A vodka fountain at the reception? Nothing good ever comes from that boy."

Livia doesn't even pretend to hide the rolling of her eyes. "He's got the devil in him, _sure_ ," she sighs, a flair for the dramatic as she lifts a hand to her forehead and falls back on Rosaline's bed. Propping herself back on her elbows, she asks genuinely, " _Why_ do you hate Benvolio so much? The two of you are, like, the _same_."

Rosaline embellishes a gag. "In what universe are Benvolio and I similar? The man's a skirt-chaser, we haven't seen him with the same girl twice, and don't you remember how hammered he was at Mercutio's party last month?" she lists his faults, hoping to reason her sister.

Livia doesn't seem deterred, though. "So what? Doesn't he get to drink himself stupid every once in a while when he spends all the other nights being the dad to your mom?" Livia strikes back, grinning as her comment leaves Rosaline's speechless. "You know it's true. You _both_ keep us grounded. And who cares how many girls he sleeps with?" Livia presses, her eyes narrowing. "Since when do you judge people on that?"

"I'm not _judging_ ," Rosaline defends herself, though she knows herself to be unfair in this case. It shouldn't matter to her, but every time Benvolio brings a new girl to one of their nights-out it irks her in a way she cannot explain with words. "I don't _hate_ him," she finally says in a low voice, feeling a little bad at how excessive she can get about Benvolio sometimes. "We just don't...mesh well, I guess," she tries.

Livia's face softens. "You're the dumbest smart people I've ever met," she proclaims matter-of-factly before she rises on her feet and crosses the room to put both her hands on Rosaline's shoulders. "If you put your minds to it, you and Ben could rule the world. Or, you know, plan the wedding of the year, to start with."

Rosaline ponders this, her sister's soulful eyes never wavering. Their first week of maid of honor and best man duties has gone by less than idyllically, she and Benvolio fighting about every little thing that, in the grand scheme of things, doesn't really matter. What matters the most is the love between Juliet and Romeo, and the love she and Benvolio have for them - the only thing they can both agree with. "Aren't you tired of always being so right, dear sister?" Rosaline asks softly, leaning her forehead against Livia's.

"Nope," Livia's mouth stretches the syllables as she grins. "Now come on, put on your nicest smile and try not to bite his head off, okay? _That_ would be a shame," she chuckles.

"Livia!" Rosaline laughs, half-shocked, not believing what she's hearing. It's bad enough that _one_ Capulet fell for the damn Montague charm, but two's starting a statistic she wants nothing to do with.

Livia presses a loud peck to her cheek before running off of her room.

 

* * *

 

 

"Are you courting Rosaline Capulet with _Chinese take-out_?" Mercutio asks, half-excited, half-disgusted at the prospect as he comes home to find Benvolio setting the table for _two_ , obviously excluding him from attendance. "She's like, a _lady_. You can't expect her to swoon over take-out, _come on_."

"I'm not _courting_ her," Benvolio rolls his eyes at his roommate. "What century is this anyway?" he grumbles, then groans at the mud stains Mercutio's dirty shoes are leaving on the carpet. "Come on, bro. I fucking spent the afternoon cleaning."

Mercutio cocks an eyebrow at him, smug as he says, "And they say romance is dead." He leaves his shoes by the door with a bow before he slumps onto the couch, disrupting the perfect row of pillows Benvolio had made. "Did you actually wash these?" he asks, sniffing the fabric. "Dude, you went to the laundromat? On a Thursday? Before you ran out of clean underwear?"

Benvolio doesn't dignify him with an answer, which, he's found through the years, is the best way to get his very exuberant, very talkative friend to shut up. Mercutio keeps commenting on how _thoughtful_ he is with his _not_ -love interest until he exhausts himself and finally takes the hint; he's about to put on his jacket and leave when someone knocks on the door and Benvolio swears under his breath. "I'm coming," he calls out, and Mercutio mouths _yes you will_ at him. Benvolio smacks him behind the head before he opens the door, revealing one Rosaline Capulet looking unsure as to why she's standing here. "Capulet," he greets and pushes himself off the threshold so she can get in.

"Montague," Rosaline says back, and behind her Mercutio pretends to slowly unbutton his own shirt, blinking his lashes in such a ridiculous way Benvolio can't help but snort. Rosaline turns around, finally spotting Mercutio. "Oh, Mercutio. I hadn't seen you."

"Lady Rosaline," Mercutio emphases with a bow, grabbing her hand and pressing a sloppy kiss on the back of it. "'Tis an honor to have you gracing our humble home with your presence."

Rosaline narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, pulling her hand back. "Are you drunk?" she asks, then turns back to Benvolio. "Is he drunk?" she asks him.

"Just being Mercutio," Benvolio shrugs, then extends a hand to her before retreating and gesturing to her jacket. "Want me to -"

" _Oh_ , yeah," Rosaline nods, grabbing at the hem to slide one sleeve off, then the other, before she hands her jacket to him. "Thanks."

"In case anyone cares, I'm leaving," Mercutio calls behind them, but neither Benvolio nor Rosaline turn around. Mercutio sighs dramatically and the door closes behind him.

"He didn't have to leave though," Rosaline tells Benvolio as he hooks her jacket on the coat rack. "It's not like anything we have to discuss is top secret."

"True," Benvolio concedes, "but if you want to eat anything then it's best he left," he adds as he gestures to the table. "I got you noodles and beef. That's what you had last time, I think?" he scratches the back of his neck, nervous all of a sudden and feeling stupid about it. It's not like it'd be the end of the world if he got her order wrong.

Rosaline stares at him with big, wide eyes, before she nods her head. "Yeah, I did. I - I didn't think you noticed."

Benvolio shrugs. "I do know some things, Capulet," he replies a little too quickly, and Rosaline's eyebrows shoot higher but her lips remain pressed together in a tight, polite smile. "We should eat while it's hot."

For a few minutes they sit in companionable silence as they eat, something new between them. When they're not fighting they're used to taking care of their friends, and when they're not parenting them God knows what Rosaline Capulet is up to. It's possibly the first time they're _willingly_ spending time alone since they've met. It's not as awkward as Benvolio expected it to be, but it's still weird, the tension between them their usual tether to reality - when they're not fighting Benvolio doesn't know exactly what they're _supposed_ to do.

Rosaline interrupts his musings, her chin shining with sauce and Benvolio has to resist the urge to lean in and swipe it with his thumb. "So, you wanted to talk."

"Way to make it sound dramatic, Capulet," he teases, good-natured, and Rosaline seems to feel it as she only slightly rolls her eyes. "We got off on the wrong foot, all right?" he assesses tentatively.

"That would be the understatement of the century, but, yeah," Rosaline agrees. "You may have had a point," she elaborates, and though Benvolio can see how hard it seems for her to admit it, she's still willing to make that step, "when you said we had to put aside whatever hard feelings between us to focus on our cousins."

"So you admit there _are_ feelings," Benvolio cannot resist teasing her as he wriggles his eyebrows.

"If wanting to _strangle_ you half the time is a feeling, then yeah," Rosaline snorts.

"Only half the time is good," he laughs before he grows serious again. "This is very important to Romeo. He loves your cousin so, so much, and I'm _not_ gonna be the one ruining that for him."

"Neither am I," Rosaline echoes. "I admit I was a bit - _reluctant_ , at first," she says tentatively. "They're both so young, and getting married is such a huge step. But they're willing to face everybody and tell them to go fuck themselves so -"

"Such a potty mouth, fair Capulet," Benvolio teases her, and Rosaline sticks her tongue out at him, childish and impetuous in a way he's never seen the cool and collected Rosaline Capulet. "Now I see where sweet Juliet got that. I almost _wept_ when she told my uncle off at the engagement dinner last week."

"He had it coming," Rosaline chuckles, "what with his talk about the sacred bond of marriage and duty and _heirs_. Like, did we go back to the sixteenth century and no one told me?"

"I know, right? I can just see him tell Romeo to go put a Montague in her on their wedding night," Benvolio shudders at the thought. "Your uncle's speech about Romeo having to take care of his little housewife was pretty gross too, though."

Rosaline nods around a mouthful of spring roll. "My uncle's pretty gross about everything when it comes to women and their emancipation, to be honest. If I listened to him I'd have to crawl back to Escalus and beg him to take me back because one day he might be mayor or something."

She says it like it's nothing, and Benvolio bites the inside of his cheek not to say anything. It's not like they're _friends_ , that much is clear; everything he knows about her he's gathered from spending time with their friends and family, from listening to Juliet babble about her _lovely_ cousin who is lovely with anyone _but_ him. They hang out in the same social circle and Benvolio has seen her relationship with Escalus grow and then fall apart; the _how_ and the _why_ he's never been clued in, but he remembers enough to know Escalus hurt her a great deal and that her uncle is an asshole for digging the knife in deeper like this. "So it seems that it falls to _us_ to make sure some people are _happy_ about this wedding, doesn't it?" he throws with another peace offering in the form of his prawn crackers Rosaline has been eyeing.

She gratefully pops one in her mouth as she nods her head. "I _am_ happy for them. It's having to do this with _you_ I'm not that excited about," she teases kindly for once, the spark in her eyes the indication he needs to know this is banter, not another way to express her undying hatred for him.

"Don't worry Capulet, I'm not planning on having any fun with you. I swear it upon my life," he solemnly swears, placing a hand above his heart. "I'm restricting the amount of smiles to _five_ , and that includes wedding pictures." At that Rosaline _beams_ , and Benvolio has to blink to make sure he's actually awake. "Come on now, we're down to four already. You're not putting any effort into this," he chides her.

Rosaline wipes her hand on her napkin, daps it at her mouth, then folds her hands on her lap. "Okay then, I'm all serious now," she says, biting at her lip not to grin. "There will be _no touching_ , either. You are to give me your arm to walk down the aisle and that's it."

" _Aww_ , come on," he cooes, reaching for a piece of paper and a pen. "There has to be a dance between the best man and the maid of honor. That's like, _tradition_ , and you know how both our uncles are hell-bent on tradition."

Rosaline frowns at him. "Are you actually _writing_ these down?" she asks, then shakes her head. "Okay, all right. _One_ dance and that's it," she shakes a finger at his face. "And since we're talking about traditions," she goes on, "let us be very clear that there will be no slutty wedding sex of any form."

"Between us?" Benvolio asks, pretending to gag. "God, Capulet, I _don't_ need to write this down."

But Rosaline keeps staring at him in all seriousness. "Yes you do," she insists. "I've seen you drunk before. Last time you tried to seduce me by comparing me to the _moon_."

"I did no such thing," Benvolio denies. "I remember it clearly. _Romeo_ said that. I tried to stop him."

Rosaline crosses her arms over her chest, amused. "That's _not_ what happened. Romeo started it but _you_ actually went on and gave me this bullshit speech about how the moon was actually the most beautiful celestial body because it kept changing but it was _still_ beautiful no matter what."

Benvolio gives her a _meh_ face that doesn't seem to work on Rosaline and shrugs. "I mean, that is kind of poetic, you gotta admit it," he tries, but at her persistent glare he grabs the pen and paper. "Okay then, no smiling, no touching, no lame flirting, and no sex. Is that all?" he asks as he writes the list down.

Rosaline considers it for a minute or two. "I guess so," she shrugs in turn. "So now that all this is sorted out, can we actually focus on the actual wedding preparations?" she asks. "I thought that a methodological repartition of tasks would be -"

"Uh, actually, about that," Benvolio cuts in, and though Rosaline looks at him like a school teacher with a student who hasn't raised their hand, she allows it. "I thought it'd be nicer if we actually tried to do most things _together_? Like, the four of us?" he immediately specifies, not wanting to sound like he actually wants to spend more time with Rosaline _alone_ than necessary. "I thought we could film everything, like, Juliet trying on dresses, the bachelorette party -"

"Is there a point to all of this or do you just want to perv on girls?" Rosaline interrupts him.

" _And_ we could also film the cake testing, and the DJ, and everything, basically," Benvolio goes on, ignoring her. "It'd be like, the behind the scenes of the wedding. We could show it at the reception."

"It _does_ sound nice," Rosaline agrees. "I can deal with spending time with you for the greater good, I guess."

"So kind of you, my lady," Benvolio bows his head, and Rosaline smacks his arm playfully. "Hey! You said no touching!"

Rosaline laughs, but holds her hands up as she pushes her chair back. "You're right, you're right," she apologizes as she rises. "I better go, then, or else I'll end up strangling you and breaking my own rule."

Benvolio walks her to the door, and it's only then that he truly realizes that he's spent the night with Rosaline Capulet with no chaperone nor supervision from their friends and that he actually had a nice time. Perhaps she _can_ be lovely with him from time to time, too. "See you next week at the Capulet Plaza, then?" he asks as he leans against the wall. Both their uncles had miraculously agreed on using the family hotel to throw the reception; both families were to meet to plan everything else from there.

Rosaline nods her head, toying with the strap of her purse. "Yeah," she says, and then looks up at him with soft eyes. "This wasn't half bad, then, was it?" she notes more than she asks.

"Not half bad is _good_ to me," Benvolio agrees.

 

* * *

 

_that montague_

_11.11am_

_make a wish_

 

_that montague_

_11.13am_

_please don't wish me dead. anyway. I think you were right about the bachelor party._

 

_fair Capulet_

_11.20am_

_I'm all ears_

 

_that montague_

_11.23am_

_don't be so smug. Romeo doesn't want strippers, he wants his beloved. no amount of alcohol or Mercutio tears were enough to convince him._

 

_fair Capulet_

_11.25am_

_your point?_

 

_that montague_

_11.27am_

_you were right and I was wrong. we're having this joint party you wanted, and you're an amazing/genius wedding planner. be merciful upon my poor soul._

 

_fair Capulet_

_11.30am_

_see, that wasn't so hard :)_

_Contact changed: Benvolio_

 

_Contact changed: amazing/genius wedding planner_

 

* * *

 

"What are they fighting about this time?" Juliet murmurs in his ear as she wraps her arms around Romeo's neck from behind, leaning her chin on his shoulder.

"Cake topping," he answers seriously, because apparently to their cousins it _is_ a serious matter that deserves to raise holy hell. "Rosaline has a preference for bergamot, and Benvolio has spent the last five minutes repeating the word while imitating her voice. I don't even know what bergamot is," Romeo admits.

Juliet presses a kiss against his temple. "And here I was thinking they were getting better at _not_ fighting."

"They are, though," Romeo amends, amused albeit slightly scared as he watches his cousin and Rosaline go at it again. "They both agreed that this butter cream was an aberration. And I definitely saw Rosaline wipe some cream from Benvolio's chin earlier."

" _Ooh_ ," Juliet coos in his ear excitedly. "I thought they had this stupid _no touching_ rule or something?"

Romeo chuckles. "Yeah, I think that kind of flew right off the window weeks ago. At this rate minister Lawrence will have two weddings to celebrate."

Juliet laughs, then gazes longingly at her cousin and Benvolio. He has stopped teasing her and they're both eating from the same plate now, sitting much closer than necessary. Benvolio laughs around a mouthful of tangerine topping and Rosaline all but _giggles_ as she presses her hand before his mouth. "You think they know?" she asks Romeo.

Romeo shakes his head, turning around in his chair to pull her to him. Juliet ends up on his lap, her arms still around his neck. "What's that saying in that movie you like again?" he says. "How romance only happens as the very end?"

Juliet rolls her eyes at him, smacking him in the chest. "Don't pretend you don't know _Love Actually_ by heart, Romeo Montague," she chides him before letting her eyes land on their cousins again. "You may be right, though. These two are too dumb to see what's right under their nose."

 

* * *

 

_Livia Capulet to **ain't no party like a Montague/Capulet party** : okay so I just heard my sister call Benvolio 'Ben', I'm raising y'all to $50 _

 

_Isabella: wait that's not fair, a bet's a bet, you can't just change the terms like this_

 

_Mercutio: we can't???? come on Iz, don't be like this doll_

 

_Helena: who are you calling doll???_

 

_Mercutio: I call y'all dolls, doll. don't change the subject. If Liv can just raise her bet, so can I. What are you raising exactly, Liv???_

 

_Livia: $50 she kisses him on the wedding reception_

 

_Helena: didn't we already establish they would be kissing? I mean, if you're raising, then go big or go home_

 

_Isabella: $50 they'll be caught in some indecent position_

 

_Mercutio: $100 our homeboy will declare his undying love during sex_

 

_Juliet: ewww that's my cousin you're talking about, show some respect Merc_

 

_Helena: but they *are* having sex on the wedding reception, didn't we also establish that??? I'm confused_

 

_Isabella: they so fucking are_

 

_Juliet: ROMEO ROMEO WHERE ARE YOU ROMEO_

 

_Mercutio: isn't it Romeo Romeo *why* are you Romeo? like, a shout-out to the cosmic void, the agony of finding love in your mortal enemy?_

 

_Livia: didn't know you were so deep, Merc <3_

 

_Mercutio: you don't know how many people have told me that before_

 

_Isabella: GOD MERCUTIO WHY U GOTTA BE LIKE THAT_

 

_Romeo: can we focus on Liv's info please??? they're on 'Ben and Ros' basis, this changes everything_

 

_Mercutio: $100 Ros still moans *Montague* and not Ben tho_

 

* * *

 

Rosaline hasn't felt this pretty in a long time, she decides as she looks at herself in the full-length mirror. Pretty doesn't cover it, actually - she feels _beautiful_. She's spent the whole afternoon trying on dresses that Juliet kept approving, her overly-enthusiastic cousin gushing over every outfit, but _this_ is the one, Rosaline knows. She has tried a dozen gowns that reached the floor, great and magnificent and haute-couture, but none of them were really _her_ \- this one though, deep cerulean blue with lace and pearls that reaches just at her knee, is perfect.

"Juliet, I think this -" Rosaline starts as she pushes the curtain open, and stops right away, her mouth closing as she spots Benvolio standing next to the sofa Juliet is lounging in. "What, wait, what are you -?" she starts asking.

Benvolio stands, speechless, his camera in hand fixed on the floor. When he'd said he wanted to film everything Rosaline had not expected him to film her trying on dresses _too_.

"Wow, babe," Juliet awes, dashing to her to make her twirl. "You look gorgeous, Ros. Don't you think, Ben?" her devil of a cousin asks as she turns to the older Montague. "Doesn't Ros look gorgeous?"

Rosaline wants to glare at her enough to set Juliet on fire, but at the same time she feels herself drawn to Benvolio, her eyes drifting up to him to see his reaction. She shouldn't care about what he thinks, and _yet_...

Benvolio clears his throat, ends up coughing like there's something caught in it. Rosaline frowns but he manages to find his voice at last. "As always," he aims for smooth, but with his hoarse voice it sounds more _wrecked_ than seductive. "You - you do cut quite the figure in that dress, Capulet."

"Thanks," Rosaline replies, goes back to glaring at Juliet so she doesn't have to look at him look at her like _that_. But Benvolio is here, and Montague he might be, he's still tall and dark and handsome and all this wedding fever is not helping her at all. "Why - why are you here?" she asks.

"We're, uh, we're supposed to go see the DJ, remember? Oversee the last details with him?" Benvolio answers, looking for his words like he half doesn't remember why he's here himself.

"Oh, right," Rosaline nods, then looks back at her dress. "I gotta change first, then. Juliet? Will you help me?" she turns to her cousin for back-up.

Juliet only grins at her, wide and mischievous, Montague-like already.

 

* * *

 

_Juliet Capulet to **ain't no party like a Montague/Capulet party** : okay so Ben saw Ros in her dress this afternoon and there was some intense eye fucking if I say so myself_

 

_Helena: that's the spirit girl_

 

_Isabella: and??? what happened???_

 

_Juliet: well idk, they had some appointment with the DJ so I went home_

 

_Mercutio: omg they had sex_

 

_Mercutio: I REPEAT THEY HAD SEX_

 

_Livia: they did not_

 

_Mercutio: how do you know, send proof_

 

_Livia: how do you prove that?? I know my sister, that's all_

 

_Mercutio: that's the worst proof ever doll_

 

_Helena: Merc isn't wrong for once_

 

_Mercutio: THANK YOU FINALLY SOMEONE ADMITS IT_

 

_Juliet: no but for real tho, there was def a moment when they looked at each other and went 'oh fuck', but like, soft, with a lot of feels_

 

_Livia: in a 'there's something there that wasn't there before' Beauty and the Beast moment, but sexy??_

 

_Mercutio: oh sweet Capulets, don't ever change_

 

_Helena: don't be a dick Merc_

 

_Mercutio: no but I was not joking!!!! b &b is a perfect analogy, because Ben IS a beast_

 

_Mercutio: don't you ever forget I've grown up with that boy and played hockey with him for like 8 years, 8 long years of taking showers together, and let me tell you something_

 

_Isabella: finish that sentence and istg I'm sending you to jail_

 

_Romeo: why are y'all talking about Ben's dick?!!!_

 

* * *

 

_Ben_

_1.15am_

_are you awake Capulet?_

 

_Ros_

_1.16am_

_no, the wedding is in 10 hours, I need my sleep and so do you!!!!_

 

_Ben_

_1.20am_

_full disclosure: I still haven't written my speech and idk how to tell these two dumb idiots in love that I love their love and want them to be happy_

 

_Ben_

_1.22am_

_tbh idk how to say shit like this without being a dick, it's like, my signature move_

_Incoming call: Ros_

 

* * *

 

There's a knock at the door that startles Juliet. "What if it's Romeo?" she hisses, half-panicking as she tries to hide. "He can't see me!"

"It's not Romeo," a voice calls through the door, and Rosaline rolls her eyes as she opens the door to reveal Benvolio. "Told you," he grins, before he sees Juliet and his grin fades into a genuine, admiring smile. "Juliet, you look like an angel."

"This one's taken," Rosaline chides him, pushing him out. Turning to her cousin, she gives her an encouraging smile. "I need to get that one down the aisle, or else who knows what he'll do. I'll get your father, all right?"

Juliet nods, gives her a watery smile. Rosaline crosses the room and hugs her tightly, whispering sweet nothings in her ear until she can feel her cousin relax in her arms. Juliet has been an emotional mess through dressing-up and make-up, and Rosaline isn't about to let her cry and ruin it.

Once she's called her uncle and made sure he was taking care of Juliet, Rosaline turns to Benvolio and she can't help but smile fondly at the sight of him. He does dress up nice is her first thought, soon followed by the realization that the blue of his tie matches her dress perfectly. It tugs at her heart in the best way, and the expectant grin on his face makes heat flush all over her. "Come here," she says as she tugs at his tie. "Your knot is _atrocious_."

He looks at her from beneath his lashes and keeps grinning as she redoes his knot, and when she pats his chest with appreciation at a job well done Benvolio places his hand above hers, holding it there a moment longer than needed before he turns at her side and offers her his elbow. "My lady," he coos as he bows to her, ridiculous and charming and _Benvolio_ all at once.

She kisses his cheek for no other reason than the festive, loving mood of the day, and elbows him in the side when he opens his mouth to tease her about it.

 

* * *

 

The wedding ceremony is beautiful. Romeo and Juliet's vows are soulful and bring even Juliet's mother to tears, Benvolio's video edit of the wedding's _behind the scenes_ earns a round of applause and brings heat to Rosaline's cheeks as she realizes just how many shots of her are included in it. The reception that follows is just as big a success, their families putting aside their ancestral feud to genuinely celebrate their children's love.

When Juliet and Romeo share their first dance Rosaline feels the tears well up in her eyes as she leans against a marble pillar and watches them. Juliet is her baby cousin, she still remembers being four and having her uncle place the tiny infant in her arms, and now she's all grown up and happy, dancing until the end of love with her _husband_. Rosaline may not be as much of a romantic as her younger sister and cousin, but she still loves the idea of love most ardently, and thank God for waterproof mascara, she sends as a little prayer.

She feels someone at her back, doesn't need to tilt her head to know it's Benvolio. He takes her teary face in, frowns, then brings his hand to her face to wipe at the tears with his thumb. "Hey now," he says softly, cupping her cheek, "those better be happy tears." Rosaline nods her head, not quite trusting her voice. She hides her face in his palm and Benvolio tugs at her gently, wrapping his arm around her back as he pulls her to his chest. "It _is_ a great wedding," he chuckles. "Perhaps we should do this more often."

"Throw weddings?" Rosaline asks against his chest.

"Or other things," Benvolio shrugs, his hand rubbing at her back soothingly. It settles at her waist as the other seeks her own. "Come on, dance with me?" he asks, gentle and pleading Rosaline can't even think of denying him.

It is _tradition_ , after all, she remembers as he steers her to the middle of the room. And it is _nice_ , too, to let herself be wooed a little by the Montague charm, Benvolio swaying her, his hand warm as his fingers twine with hers. "I didn't know you could dance," she tells him in the middle of the song.

"Someone had to practice with Romeo," Benvolio pretends to shudder as he looks over at their cousins still lost and entranced in each other. "I taught him all my moves."

Rosaline chuckles, following his gaze and smiling fondly at her cousin resting her head on her husband's shoulder. "Clearly it worked out pretty well for him. You Montagues aren't _that_ bad, all in all," she admits in a whisper.

"Yeah?" Benvolio breathes in her ear, and when Rosaline turns her head back to him she finds his face impossibly close to hers, her nose bumping against his. Benvolio's eyes are locked on hers and Rosaline wonders idly if she's ever realized how blue they were, or if they only look so in the dim light.

She nods, rubbing her nose against his. "Yeah," she whispers and leans up, tiptoeing to reach his full height at the same time as Benvolio leans down, capturing her lips with his own.

Her hands shoot up at his neck and his go to the small of her back, holding her closer to him. He nips at her lip and Rosaline half-giggles, half-moans, giddy in a way only one other Capulet has ever been rendered by a Montague.

In the distance Juliet smiles against the crook of Romeo's neck. "Told you so," she says as he kisses the crown of her hair.

 

* * *

 

"What about your no slutty wedding sex rule?" Benvolio pants against her mouth as she pushes him into the coat room, making sure the door is locked behind them before she launches at him again. His jacket and tie are on the floor before he can finish his sentence, the top half of his shirt unbuttoned.

"You want to stop?" Rosaline teases him, her hand stopping short of reaching for his belt. "I mean, _fine_ ," she shrugs, her plump lips red from his kissing. "We can wait. There's no rule about slutty wedding _brunch_ , and -"

And she doesn't get to finish whatever evil suggestion she was about to make as Benvolio kisses her and pins her against the nearest wall, his hands slipping beneath her dress and gripping at her thighs as he propels her up, her slender legs wrapping around his hips.

 

* * *

 

Isabella, Helena and Livia share the winnings, and all agree on gifting the copious amount to Romeo and Juliet's honeymoon trip.

Mercutio whines for weeks about how _unfair_ it is that his homeboy and the fairest Capulet _won't_ fucking confirm anything so he can collect his winnings too, the assholes.

 

* * *

 

 

_the end_

 

 


End file.
